


Amends for the Past

by NinesByDawn



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship, Future, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinesByDawn/pseuds/NinesByDawn
Summary: Oneshot. Long after the Titans disband, Rachel lives a peaceful, normal, anonymous life, exactly what she wanted. Things change when a vigilante from a previous time comes to town, seeking closure for their mistakes from before.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Raven, Dick Grayson/Raven, Robrae
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	Amends for the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the first draft of this was written on a notepad while I was out in the wilderness for a week
> 
> I will probably keep revising this as long as I find more issues with it
> 
> Excuse the inconsistent indentations I promise all lines of dialogue are indented in the actual document

The job was practically the conglomeration of the most boring qualities imaginable in the world. A secretary, whose roles were to file paperwork, usher clients through, and change out the coffee filters and waste baskets. Not only that, but a secretary for an insurance headquarters, and a nondescript, generic one at that. The building was located in the financial district of the city, which was notorious for its uniformity and lack of color.

For Rachel, the purple-haired veteran of the job, it was a match made in heaven. The woman, who was probably somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, almost acted like she was born from the position itself. She kept herself neat but bland, showed up to work at the same time every day, and did her work with little to no comments to her coworkers, clients, or managers. She would break for lunch at noon, usually taking bites from a salad while reading the newspaper, then return promptly at one and work until five. Afterwards, she would take the subway back to her apartment half an hour away, and usually spend the rest of the night reading or occasionally go out for a walk when it was warm. Nobody knew if she had friends outside of work, what kinds of hobbies she enjoyed besides reading, or what she did on the weekends. She was polite with coworkers and could make small talk, but usually went back to her work after the conversation stalled.

On this particular day, Rachel had come in 15 minutes before like she always did, setting down her materials at the desk and scanning through the day’s responsibilities. She opened up a file cabinet, sorting through the various documents and meticulously selecting the ones that would be needed for meetings later.

“Morning, Rachel!” 

She looked up and smiled courteously as the tall, dark-haired manager walked by. “Good morning, Spencer,” she said, returning the greeting.

Spencer stopped at the desk, setting down his cup of coffee and a newspaper. “Any fun plans for the rest of this week?” he asked.

“A couple of good books I want to finish,” Rachel replied.

The manager laughed heartily. “Nothing ever changes with you, does it?”

“I’ll have the same response every time you ask this question,” she said with a shrug. Rachel had long grown used to others questioning or wondering about her reclusive lifestyle, and her go-to response nowadays was to just politely reply in a way that deflated the conversation such that it was no longer even _interesting_ for the other person to probe more.

“Been a lot of crime around these parts lately,” he said. “Best be careful commuting to and from here.”

“I should be fine during the day. The station’s not too far from here or my apartment.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully the city gets its act together soon,” he said. “Heard they just brought in a new police chief. Old one just sat around all day and ate donuts.”

“Interesting,” she said, her voice still monotone. Spencer picked up his things and disappeared into another room, while she kept her eyes on the computer monitor.

The morning went by like all the other mornings Rachel worked. Check in clients who had meetings, direct the company’s own businessmen to their conference rooms for said meetings, file more paperwork and enter data. She wasn’t ever particularly bored since she approached work with so much obliviousness to begin with. Noon came and she pulled out her lunchbox from the minifridge, briskly walking to the lounge and sitting down at the table facing the TV. It seemed that her coworkers had gone out to eat today, so she would have the lounge to herself. Rachel turned on the TV, flipping it to a news channel as she stuck her fork in some lettuce.

“We could be seeing two more devastating hurricanes form as early as next week,” the weatherman announced as Rachel gazed at the screen with slight disinterest. “All people in affected areas, please stay safe and make preparations.”

“Thank you. And now, we bring you live to the press conference of our city’s newest police chief…” The anchor continued, picking up the commentary. The scene switched to a conference room, where a muscular, confident-looking man in a uniform was surrounded by reporters and fellow officers. Rachel narrowed her eyes, peering closely at him. The style of hair…the posture…the piercing blue eyes…it couldn’t be. Her eyes shot down to the caption as she scanned it intently. _Richard Grayson introduced as new Head of Police Department._

It was at this moment that Rachel felt something she hadn’t in a long time. First, the denial. There was no way it could be the same one. Then, the anxiety. What if it was? Was it a coincidence? Or was he here with a purpose? Then, the anger. If he really was here for his own…purposes, he would have to try a lot harder than just disguising himself like this.

“I assure you, from my years of experience, as well as my intel on this department, I have the utmost confidence that all this city needs is to come down with the hammer a little harder on crime,” he said, addressing reporters.

“Mr. Grayson, Samantha Stark with the Times.” Another reporter barged in, sticking a microphone near his face. “You were a star in academy and in your first department. Rumor has it you’ve had prior training before joining the police force. Can you confirm this?”

“Miss, there’s nothing much to it,” he said with a laugh. “I guess I’m just a quick learner, that’s all.” He took more questions from the press and Rachel couldn’t help but be transfixed to the screen, observing his movements rather than listening to his words. Finally, she reached for the remote and turned the TV off. Her half-eaten salad, usually finished by this point, sat in front of her. She slowly put the remote back, then snorted to herself. This didn’t change anything. Her life would still be the same regardless of how close or far away he was. The shadows always offered the most safety.

Rachel retreated to her apartment after work, a one-bedroom residence on the sixth floor of a relatively old building. She read through the morning’s newspaper first, skipping the sports and opinion sections and reading through the politics and business sections thoroughly. She didn’t ever really have strong opinions on any current events, but it was always good to stay informed. For dinner, she cooked up some simple stir-fry for herself, eating only a portion of it and saving the rest for leftovers. The rest of the night was left to brew tea and read, which she did almost every evening. For years, she had lived this life. She rarely interacted with other people outside of work and almost never traveled outside the city. The library and bookstore were the two places she frequented the most, to pick up new reading material and try out different genres.

After a few hours of reading through a novel based on a true story, she set the book down and peered out of her window. She opened the door to her deck, allowing the cool night breeze to drift inside the room. The silence outside was occasionally broken by the sound of cars passing by. Everything was calm, and yet…something seemed off. Rachel usually enjoyed being on her deck at least a few minutes a night as a break from reading. Tonight, she took a step towards the deck, before hearing a faint whoosh in the night. It was barely perceptible, but the woman had definitely picked up the disturbance in the natural breeze. Her other foot froze, and she planted it straight down instead of forward.

She felt something she hadn’t experienced in a long time, but this time it wasn’t just an intuition. It felt like her…powers. She looked down at her palms, normal in appearance yet starting to pulsate on the inside. Turning back to her kitchen, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and tried to make sense of her feelings. She hadn’t meditated, hadn’t chanted those three haunting words in a long time, and yet…maybe it would benefit her to do it tonight. Just to calm everything down.

She sat down on the couch, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. Her hands trembled as she formed Os with her fingers. She tried to stop the trembling by slowing her breathing and taking deeper breaths, but it only grew worse. Rachel’s eyes shot open as she pulled her palms back in, gazing at them again. They still looked normal, but she could definitely feel the pulsations throbbing now.

 _Clank._ Something metallic had embedded itself into her railing. Rachel stood up immediately and stared outside. She looked down at her hands and concentrated for a moment, closing her eyes again. When she opened them, her left hand was covered in dark energy. Creeping carefully, her palm glowing intensely, Rachel approached the object and plucked it out. The moon shone on the deck as she examined it, rotating it around in her hand. A black and blue bird. The edges that formed the wings were sharp enough to leave a sizeable dent in her railing. It was no doubt state-of-the-art technology, as the gadget itself barely had a scratch on it.

“Look familiar to you?” A voice called out in the night, beckoning from above. She turned and craned her head to spot a dark shadow on the rooftop. She could make out the figure’s plain short haircut as well as a blue bird, the same design as the gadget, on his chest, a contrast to the pitch-black the rest of his body was shrouded in.

“You better have a good reason for ruining my deck,” Rachel muttered. The figure hopped down, landing in direct light of the moonlight. He wore a domino-style mask, the one she had grown so used to seeing over the years. Slots, for batons she assumed, protruded out of his back. He gazed at her with an eerily knowing look.

“I came here to talk,” he offered. She narrowed her eyes, ever so slightly backing away.

“You’re trespassing.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Call me Nightwing,” he said. “But, you know me by something different.”

“You’ve found the wrong person,” she said bluntly. “I don’t know who you are.”

“But you do,” he insisted, taking a few steps forward. “You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Raven.”

“I don’t know who that is,” she said, now glaring at him. “My name is Rachel.”

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleaded as she turned around. “I’m here to help. To make things a little better than before.” He put a hand on her shoulder, attempting to turn her to face him again.

“Get away from me!” She spun around, slapping his hand off and backing up further into the room. A couple of her mugs shattered instantly, but she didn’t care.

“Raven, please. I’m not here to—”

“There’s a reason I left,” she replied, cutting him off. “Stop…bringing up the past.”

“So, you admit it,” he said, exhaling. He stopped his advance, and took a step back to give her space.

“What do you want?” she demanded. The two were now standing in her living room. She was still glaring at him, her arms folded.

“I wanted…to reconcile. Bring some closure to what happened.”

“I need no closure. The things you speak of are from a different life,” she snapped. “A life I moved on from.”

“Please, Raven. Just hear me out, and if you don’t like what you hear, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”

“It’s Rachel. Raven is from a different time,” she said, correcting him. Sighing, she plopped down on the couch and folded her arms again. “I guess you just won’t give up. Make it quick, then.” He followed and took a seat on the couch across from her, a coffee table between them.

“I guess I should start with myself,” he said. “After everything that happened, I didn’t want all of our work to just unravel at once. But I knew that fighting alone as my old identity would only make me a bigger and easier target. I went back to Gotham for a bit, then traveled around. Trained and sought out the world’s deepest secrets. I was truly independent now, so I rebranded myself, cleaned up Jump for good, then traveled around again, helping out crime-ridden cities.” He paused, then glanced at her. “Do you mind if…I have a cup of tea?”

“Sit tight, I’ll grab it,” she muttered, getting up. There was some lukewarm water left over in the kettle, and she tossed some leaves in the mug before pouring the rest of it in. She set it down in front of him, then returned to her position on the couch, arms folded once more.

“You didn’t use your powers to make it,” he noted.

“None of your business,” she replied curtly. “Go on.”

He took a sip and nodded. “Of course, nobody knew why their crime rates were declining or that no new problems were popping up. I worked solely at night. Sometimes I’d be spotted, but the closest anyone ever got was a blurry photo of this,” he said, gesturing to the emblem on his chest. “But I still didn’t have a source of income. I needed a day job. I couldn’t just sit around in the alleys all day.”

“So you became a cop,” Rachel said, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly. I was already helping out crime. Why not just make it a 24/7 thing? I signed on with the local police department in the city I was working in at the time. Rose through the academy and the ranks quickly, of course. Worked for a few years, then there was an opening for the position here. I heard it’s fairly rough, and the department really wanted me to take over. So here I am.” He took another sip, then set the mug down and leaned forward, gazing at her.

“Where are the others?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Cyborg is working with the Justice League now.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’ve decided I work best alone,” he responded. “Besides, someone’s gotta take care of the lesser crime while they’re off fighting whatever the hell superdemon monsters are threatening the Earth now.”

“A savior for the people. Charming.”

“Starfire returned to Tamaran. They needed her to establish order there after another war broke out. She hopes she can make it back to Earth occasionally, since it’s looking like this will be a permanent stay.”

“You must be devastated,” she said, pursing her lips. “I seem to recall so as much, yes?”

“It’s a thing of the past,” he said. “But she’s obviously still a close friend. Anyways, I’m not sure of Beast Boy’s whereabouts. He tried to latch on again with the Doom Patrol, but it seems like him and Mento are destined to butt heads from now until the end of time. He might still be with them, or he might be wandering on his own.”

“What about me?” she asked. “Have you been keeping tabs on me as well?”

“You…did a very good job of what you promised to do,” he admitted. “I searched, Raven. For years. I couldn’t turn up anything. I kind of just gave up after a while…” He trailed off for a couple seconds before continuing. “Crime was taking up the majority of my time. And I assumed you were taking care of yourself fine.”

“So how did you find me?” she demanded, the slight edge back in her voice.

“First day on the job, gotta go through all the records, of course,” he said, leaning back on the couch. “Found one Miss Rachel Roth in the city database. Purple hair and violet eyes? We’re already off to a good start. Born, apparently, in Jump City. Very clever fake records. But I’d recognize my own work anywhere.”

“You’ve told me everything,” she said, twirling a strand of her hair. “Now why are you here?”

He let out a deep breath. “It’s been a long time,” he said. He leaned in across the table, his serious look meeting her expressionless, yet still frigid gaze. “Raven. The past is the past. You don’t have to do this forever.”

“Have you considered how I feel?” she asked, her voice hardening. “Maybe you can’t imagine living life like this. But this is what I want. An ordinary life. Free from everything about the past, and with as little disturbance as possible.”

“Rae,” he murmured, reaching out and gently taking her hand. He expected her to pull away, but for some reason she allowed him to keep it there. “You know no matter how long you keep this up, it won’t change anything. Rather than keep covering it up, let’s try to heal together.”

“I’m not that naïve anymore, Grayson,” she said, then brushed his hand off of hers. “I won’t fall down this slippery slope again. One thing leads to another, and soon I’m back where I was hurt the most.”

“I’m willing to try,” he pleaded. “Times are different now. The world is a different place, and we’ve grown. I want to settle things. Make it so that neither of us have to live with this burden.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Rachel repeated. “I don’t want anything to do with the past. I learned a lot, I made friends, and I found a home. But now that home is gone and nothing’s the same. You can’t try to rebuild that. You’ll just cause more damage.”

“I’m not trying to rebuild _everything_ we had before,” he said. “I just want—” He stood up and came to her side, sitting down next to her before continuing. “to fix things between us.” He turned his head to look at her, but she kept staring straight forward.

After a moment, she let out a bitter laugh. “I think we both know it wasn’t meant to be,” she said. “Cute idea. Especially as teenagers, when you don’t know anything about how the world works. But it didn’t work out, and that’s that.”

“I can accept that it didn’t work out. But I can’t accept…the way it happened. That’s the only reason why I’m here.”

“It compromised our final mission and destroyed our trust in our friends and each other,” she snapped, turning to meet his eyes. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that everything collapsed _because_ of how close we were.”

“We made mistakes. It was a different time. Being a hero is way different than being a normal person.”

“ _I’m_ trying to live the normal life,” she said, correcting him. “You’re still avoiding real life with your vigilantism and connections to everyone else.”

“I just want to say that what happened then…shouldn’t be why you shut off from everything,” he murmured. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you since then.”

She paused and looked down for a moment. When she met his eyes again, her face showed a mixture of confusion and indignation. “So you _are_ here to rekindle,” she said, though there was a hint of uncertainty mixed with the venom in her voice. “I’m not interested. Final answer.”

“As I said, if you don’t want to listen anymore, I’ll show myself out,” he said, gesturing to the still-open door to the deck. “But I know that _you know_ it’s not the right way. That deep down, you know that resolving this will be better for you.”

“I. Don’t. Need. Help.” She turned away from him again, staring straight ahead at the wall.

“Do you _really_ enjoy this life?” he asked. “Not seeing anyone, becoming a recluse, having your life only be about work and books? I know you, Raven. We have a bond. You don’t really love this. It’s just that your trust has been shattered by what happened long ago. But that’s exactly it: it was _long ago._ ” She turned and stared at him for a while, her glare gradually softening from the icy defiance she had kept throughout their conversation. “Controlling your emotions isn’t about running away from them, Raven,” he continued. “It’s about understanding and accepting them, and not letting them rule you.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, sighing. She stood up and took a few steps onto the deck, leaning her forearms on the railing, and he joined behind her. “I thought everything was fine. Then you had to show up, butt your way into my life again.” There was the slightest hint of amusement in her voice, and she was sure he had picked up on it too. “And now I’m confused again. So I suppose that’s what you wanted.”

“I’m just asking you to trust once more,” he said, stepping forward to stand next to her. “Put your faith back in what you once knew. I’ve been carrying the scars a long time too. The only thing I wanted to do, that was ever on my mind since then, was find you again. I knew you could help me. That we could help each other.”

“What do you want me to do?” she said. “I can’t just start seeing you every day like we used to. We can’t go pick up where we left off, and pretend that nothing ever happened.”

“We don’t need to do any of that. We just need to…talk. To get to know each other once again like we used to. And through that, I think we’ll be able to start something new.”

She hesitated, then stared at him again, now more vulnerably. “I don’t know,” she repeated, her voice soft.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s not easy. Like someone once told me, trust is easy to destroy, but takes time to build.” He let go of her shoulder, but left his hand extended for her. “Will you take that first step with me? Again?”

Rachel stared at his hand, then at him, then back at his hand again. She finally reached her own hand out and grasped his. They held there for a few seconds, before both of them withdrew.

“I’m not in this to be romantic again, Richard,” she said sternly. “We’ll try to rebuild what we lost. That’s what I’m willing to do.”

“Absolutely.”

She nodded and turned her head to look at the moon. “It’s getting late. You should probably go fight criminals or whatever it was you were planning on doing.”

“Raven.”

“It’s Rachel.”

“Nope. You’re still Raven to me, and you always will be,” he said with a small smile.

“Fine,” she conceded. “What?”

“Thank you. For trusting me.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “I suppose I should thank you as well.”

“No need. I’m only doing what I feel is right.”

“You have this certain…tendency,” she said, drawing closer to him. “Actually, call it stubbornness. I suppose it’s wholly and unbearably annoying at first.” She lightly traced across the emblem on his chest with a finger. “But, you tend to draw people in eventually. Which is good,” she added. “I don’t know where I would be…or where any of us would be, if you didn’t persist in making us see your way.”

“That wasn’t it this time,” he replied. “I just wanted to revisit an old friend. To make sure we could both fly properly, without carrying any more weight.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in, hugging her tightly. They shared the embrace for a few moments before breaking free. Rachel felt the comforting familiarity warm her up, as she stared at him.

“While we’re on the topic of old times…” She reached up and peeled his mask off, then stared deep into his exposed eyes. She nodded after a moment, then put the mask back on.

“You didn’t leave it off this time,” he said.

“I just needed a quick check,” she responded. “Everything’s still the same about you.” She picked the gadget up off the railing and handed it to him. “Do you want this part of your unnecessarily flashy entrance back?”

He chuckled. “Keep it. I have plenty more. I’ll make sure your deck gets fixed too.”

“You had better,” she muttered.

He leapt up on the railing, his feet gingerly landing on top of the metal. “I do need to go on now. But we’ll be in touch,” he said, turning to look back at her.

“Indeed, we will,” she murmured. He gave her one last smile before leaping into the night, and she responded with a small wave as he departed. She looked at the metallic bird in her hand, the black and blue paint mimicking the night itself. Turning it over, she found a small engraving in the back of the gadget. Two words, imprinted in the middle.

_For Raven._


End file.
